


Worship me in the bedroom

by Akira14



Category: SKAM (Italy)
Genre: Fanfic Italia P0rn Fest, M/M
Language: Italiano
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-29
Updated: 2018-12-31
Packaged: 2019-09-30 03:16:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,838
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17215979
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Akira14/pseuds/Akira14
Summary: Tentativi di smut su Skam Italia, scritti per la dodicesima edizione del P0rn Fest. Tradotti anche in inglese, ma scritti originariamente in italiano.The stories I'm writing for the Italian P0rn Fest, so basically smutty drabbles and ficlets with very little plot.You will find them both in Italian and in English ;)





	1. No regrets

Quando l’idea è uscita per la prima volta, mentre slegavi i polsi di Niccolò, nemmeno sapevi di che si trattasse.  
“La prossima volta… Shibari?” T’ha chiesto, massaggiandosi la pelle arrossata. Era così entusiasta che non hai avuto il coraggio di dirgli di no, ben sapendo che comunque avresti potuto ritrattare all’ultimo. Non ti costringerebbe mai a fare qualcosa che non ti va né vorrebbe che tu ti sforzassi di farti piacere delle cose soltanto perché lui le trova eccitanti.

“Okay.”  
“Okay?” Sembrava così dubbioso che per un attimo ti sei chiesto se fosse qualcosa di pericoloso, o di mortificante.  
“Okay.” Hai ripetuto, con convinzione.

Quando hai fatto le dovute ricerche su Internet – premurandoti di cancellare la cronologia, che non si sa mai chi potrebbe usare il tuo portatile – ti sei quasi strozzato con il caffè che stavi bevendo. Cazzo. C’è una foto in particolare che ti ha fatto immaginare molto vividamente la scena… Tanto da dover mettere il computer da parte e rimediare alla situazione, con il suo nome sulle labbra.  
No, non credi proprio che te ne pentirai.

Nemmeno ora, che ti sta tenendo immobilizzato con il peso del suo corpo, ci ripensi. L’unico timore che avevi è che potesse non apprezzare la tua trovata, che la ritenesse pacchiana e di cattivo gusto… Ma a giudicare dal sussulto che ha avuto non appena è entrato in camera, da come i suoi occhi non riuscissero a staccarsi dalle tue gambe e non andassero più su dell’inguine… Da come ti ha sorriso sornione nel vederti così rilassato, privo di qualsiasi pudore o vergogna, mentre l’aspettavi seduto mollemente sul letto e da quanto velocemente si è spogliato… Diresti che la tua iniziativa è stata promossa a pieni voti.

Meno male: andare a comprare quelle calze è stato piuttosto imbarazzante, seppur t’abbia dato un brivido inaspettato… Sarebbe stato un peccato non avesse gradito.

No, non hai davvero la minima intenzione di dirgli di fermarsi.  
Neppure quando le corde di stringono intorno ai tuoi polsi ed alle tue caviglie, e la frizione si fa dolorosa. Nemmeno quando se la ride perché devi allungarti col collo – come una piccola giraffa – per cercare le sue labbra. Che, da vero stronzo, ti lascia appena sfiorare per poi allontanarsi al primo accenno di lingua o denti.  
Nemmeno quando vorresti potergli afferrare la nuca, lasciando scorrere le tue dita tra i suoi riccioli, e scopargli come si deve quella sua bocca irriverente. Il suo ritmo è languido, ozioso, come se avesse in mente di stare tutta la notte a succhiartelo prima di lasciarti venire.  
Si prende tutto il tempo di farti impazzire, ora, lasciando una scia di piccoli baci e brevi carezze che ti costringono ad inarcare la schiena e supplicarlo di avere pietà. Non ti ascolta. Figuriamoci.

Anzi, avvicina indice e medio alla tua bocca e te li fa succhiare. Contrariato, li mordi, ma lui non sembra cogliere il messaggio.

“Come siamo impazienti…” Mormora, risalendo per lasciarti un’infinità di lividi sul collo. Segue poi la linea dell’orecchio con le labbra e prende il piercing tra i denti. Sa benissimo l’effetto che ti fa, quando lo tira appena. Roba che ti viene duro nel giro di un nanosecondo. Figuriamoci ora che sei quasi al tuo limite.

“E se facessi così, che diresti?” Ti chiede, lasciando scorrere un polpastrello sul tuo capezzolo per poi pizzicarlo.

“Che sei un infame.” Risposta sbagliata. Le dita cambiano il loro corso, seguendo tutta la linea della colonna vertebrale.  
La sua erezione preme contro le tue cosce, ma non pare voler far nulla al riguardo. Tutta la sua attenzione è rivolta a te, a farti tremare sotto le sue mani esperte e…

No. Ehi, fermi. Stop. La saliva non è un lubrificante accettabile, è stato già appurato una volta e non hai intenzione di ripetere lo stesso errore e non poterti più sedere per i prossimi tre giorni.

“Non ci pensare neanche.” Gli intimi, lanciandogli pure uno sguardo piuttosto eloquente.

“Che palle che sei, Marti…” Sbuffa, allontanandosi per recuperare preservativo e lubrificante da sotto il letto. Adesso sì che si ragiona.

“Be’, scusa, è il mio di culo. Tutti a secco, con il culo degli altri.” Ti fingi offeso, strappandogli un sorriso. Il broncio sulle tue, di labbra, si distende presto in un’espressione beata. Ti ci vuole ormai soltanto un attimo, prima di accoglierlo dentro di te. Prima che quelle sue esili dita non siano neanche lontanamente abbastanza, e che tu gli chieda di più.

Come sempre, agisce con estrema cautela.  
Quasi temesse di farti troppo male, sebbene le tue reazioni dimostrino il contrario.

“Tutto qui?” Domandi, inarcando le sopracciglia per palesare la tua incredulità e delusione. Non ti romperai per così poco.

“Mi stai per caso sfidando?” Risponde lui, appoggiando la sua fronte contro la tua mentre le sue spinte si fanno più rapide e violente.

“P-può dar… darsi…” Mugoli, guardando il soffitto. Hai bisogno di distrarti, o finirà tutto troppo in fretta.

Quasi come se ti avesse letto nel pensiero, il maledetto pensa bene di chiudere il proprio pugno intorno al tuo cazzo.  
Ottimo, davvero.  
Soprattutto perché sa alla perfezione, ormai, come lavorare di polso per far sì che tu venga esattamente quando vuole lui.

Troppo, troppo presto.  
Oh be’, c’è tutto il tempo per un secondo round, giusto?


	2. No regrets (English)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ideally it’s a sequel of this ficlet: <https://archiveofourown.org/works/16926042/chapters/40175777>  
> Sometimes I feel like writing smut, though I know that I’m terrible at it. Bear it with me.
> 
> For the prompt: “Shibari”. Inspired by this photo: <https://www.foap.com/photos/shibari-dd62c16f-e273-4d28-a464-4e25cb1e245c>

When he first mentioned it, you hadn’t the faintest idea of what you were agreeing to. 

“Next time… Shibari?” He had asked, carefully stroking the flushed skin of his wrists. He was so excited about it that you didn’t had it in you to say ‘no’. Besides, it’s not like Niccolò would ever hold it against you if you backed out of anything at the last minute. He would hate it, if you tried to force yourself into trying things just because he finds them arousing.

It’s easy to dive into life headfirst, with him. To take wrong turns, make mistakes, but have no regrets because you learnt a lot about yourselves from those slipups. You learnt how to approach the world in a different way, how to get rid of the self-ingrained shame when it comes to being intimate.  
How to leave shame and decency out of the door when it’s only you and him and a bed.

“Okay.” 

“Okay?” He sounded so doubtful that, for a moment, you feared it was going to be both dangerous and mortifying. Like that time you nearly broke his dick; yeah, not your best moment. 

“Okay.” You insisted, nonetheless.  
You could still change your mind after some proper research on the topic, after all. 

When you actually looked it up on the Internet – making sure to delete your search history, ‘cause you never know who could get their hands on your laptop – you nearly chocked on the coffee you were drinking. Fuck. There’s one photo in particular that has you picturing such a vivid scenario in your mind that your jeans got painfully tight in a matter of seconds, and rubbing your palm against the hardness wasn’t helping at all… You had to take the matter into your own hands, coming with his name upon your lips.  
No, you don’t really think you are going to regret it.

////////

Nope, you’re not having second thoughts.  
Being stuck under the weight of his body, unable to move, is quite exhilarating.  
There was only one thing you were unsure of, today, and it was adding your own twist to this. Niccolò had never mentioned having any interest in it, so it might not have been his cup of tea. You had never thought it was yours either, until you saw that picture.  
You would have understood if he thought it was a tacky and vulgar idea. Judging from the way he was eating you up with his eyes, how he kept staring at your legs and couldn’t go further up than your groin… from his sly smile when he saw you looking so relaxed, lazily sitting on the bed as you slowly stroked your cock… and how fast he undressed himself, however, you think he’s on board with your nice little addition to the scene.

Well, that’s a relief: buying those tights has been quite embarrassing, even though it gave you a thrill you weren’t expecting… It would have been a shame if he didn’t like it.

No, you have no intention of asking him to stop.  
Not even when he tightens the ropes around your wrists and ankles, taking great care to knot them properly. Or when the friction of cheap fabric against heated skin gets nearly as painful as the restraints on your tensed muscles.  
Not even when he laughs in your face because you have to stretch out your neck – like a little giraffe – to ask for a kiss. Which he denies you, over and over again. That asshole only allows you to brush your lips against his, but then he withdraws when you try to bite at them or slip your tongue in.  
Not even when you wish you could hold onto his nape, carding your fingers through his curls, and fuck that insolent mouth so hard that he’d feel you at the back of his throat for days. He’s taking his sweet time, the jerk, as though he’s planning to spend the night bringing you right to the edge before he will actually let you come.  
Nico is driving you insane, already, kissing down from the tip to the base and barely grazing your balls with his fingertips. He has you arching your back, begging for him to get a move on and either suck that dick or jerk you off. Pick one, and do it, because you can’t stand this any longer.  
Your pleas fall on deaf ears, of fucking course. 

Ni brings two fingers to your mouth, instead. He probably wants you to suck on them, so you bite hard on his knuckles in the hope that that will get your message across. It doesn’t.

“So eager, ain’t we?” Niccolò murmurs, licking a stripe up your length. Instead of taking you in his mouth, though, he moves up to your hips. He leaves bruises in his wake, all the way up to your neck. Then he tilt his head, going for the helix on your ear. For fuck’s sake, he knows all too well how it makes your toes curls with pleasure when he so much as pulls at it with his teeth. 

“And if I did this…. What would you say?” He asks, running his fingertip on one hardened nipple and then pinching it. 

“Go fuck yourself.” Wrong answer. His fingers change their path, following the sharp line of your spine.  
You can feel him hard, and heavy, against your thighs but he doesn’t seem to be interested in taking care of that particular matter. His focus is on you and you alone, he’s ready to show you what exactly those skillful hands of his are capable of…

Oi. Wait a minute. Spit isn’t an acceptable lubricant: you made that mistake once and it was enough; never again you’re gonna have to wince every time you sit down for the following three days.

“Don’t even think about it.” You warn Nico, angrily glaring at him as well for good measure.

“Don’t you ever get tired of being so boring, Marti?” He huffs, backing away and bending down to get the lubricant and the condoms from under the bed. Now we’re talking.

“Well, it’s my ass we’re talking about. Put your own on the line, if you’d like it raw.” You feign outrage, earning a smile from Niccolò.  
The pout on your lips soon turns into a blissed out grin, and it doesn’t take long before you are ready for more than just his nimble fingers. 

He moves into you gently, cautiously, still afraid to hurt you even though he can clearly see that he isn’t. There’s that hint of pain when he pushes in, that minute it takes you to get used to being so full, but that’s it. Nothing that should make him look so worried about you.

“Is that all you’ve got?” You whisper, teasingly, raising your eyebrows in both disappointment and disbelief.

“You know that it’s not, you asshole.” Niccolò says, leaning down to rest his forehead against yours. 

“Stop being an idiot, then, and show it to me.” You goad him, and you’re soon rewarded by Nico setting a much faster pace. His thrusts are relentless, bordering on violent, now… and you’re loving every second of it.

You look up to the ceiling, trying to conjure any imagine in your mind that could prevent you from coming in a handful of minutes. You want it last so much longer than that… Come on, come on, there’s gotta be something…

Almost as if he read your mind, Nico reaches for your cock. He know just how you like it, by now, how you like to feel his thumb circling the tip and then surprise you with a sudden jerk of his wrist. How you like it to be quick, and unforgiving, when you’re not in the middle of foreplay.  
Ni has perfect the art of making you come right when he sees fit.

Too soon. Way too soon.  
Oh, well, there’s the whole night ahead for a round two.  
And three. Four, perhaps.  
You draw the line at five.


	3. Choked

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: breath play

Preme i pollici contro il pomo d’Adamo, serrando ancor più la sua presa quando Martino cinge le braccia intorno ai suoi fianchi, guidando i suoi movimenti. Lo costringe a scendere su di lui senza alcuna esitazione, ad accelerare fino a sentire i muscoli in fiamme.  
Vuole tutto subito, non ha pazienza, oggi. Ha una tale fame di lui, una tale disperazione di farlo suo, che Nico non si sogna certo di tirarsi indietro. Ce n’è voluto, per far venir fuori questo lato del suo ragazzo, per fargli capire che di tanto in tanto anche non ricoprirlo di attenzioni e non trattarlo con i guanti va bene… E lo stesso si può dire di lui, certo. Tempo fa le sue dita esitavano, attorno al collo di Marti. Non stringeva affatto, per paura di fargli del male. A malapena s’arrossava, la sua pelle, mentre ora punta a lasciarvi una scia di lividi.

Non c’è neanche bisogno di venir toccato. Gli basta la consapevolezza di quanta fiducia Martino abbia nei suoi confronti per lasciargli fare una cosa del genere, di sentirlo gemere per il piacere e non riuscire a sussurrare altro che il suo nome. Non desidera altro, ora.  
Soltanto quando lo sente irrigidirsi, e rantolare nell’orgasmo, lascia andare.  
Bacia i segni violacei, e si corica al suo fianco.


	4. Choked (English)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: I'm wondering whether to write for other prompts or not... Of course, due to the nature of this Kink Meme (Italian P0rn Fest) I have to write them in Italian first and then translate them...

He presses his thumbs against his Adam's apple, straddling his lover and tightening the grip even more when Martino lays his hands upon his hips in a frantic attempt to guide his movements.   
Fuck slow and gentle, he wants to have Niccolò to speed up and ride him so hard that he will soon feel the strain on his inner thighs. 

Damn, Martino's got no patience, today.   
He is so desperate to take his breath away with a kiss, to bite at his lips and leave them puffy and redder than before, that Nico does not stand a chance: he cannot hold back, he cannot surrender and give in to Martino feverish demands.   
After all, it took months to bring out this side of his boyfriend... To make him understand that, from time to time, it's okay to be just a little bit rougher and stop behaving like he could break under his hands. It comes from a place of concern, it shows how deep his love runs, but it's an attitude that was starting to wear him down... And he bets that the same can be said about him, of course.  
Few weeks ago his hands would shy away from Martino's neck, he'd be satisfied to bite and suck on the skin until his boyfriend either reclaimed his mouth or encouraged him to go much lower...  
Now he knows just the right amount of pressure needed to make him light-headed and giddy, to heighten sensations without any unpleasant consequence... apart from those two thumb-shaped bruises below his chin.  
They can't be easy to cover, but Martino seems to have discovered the wonders of foundation ever since you started dating. Besides, you both like to have small reminders of the time you spent making love... So it's not like he really minds.

He doesn't even need to touch himself, or to have Martino hands on him.  
Knowing how much trust is needed to be allowed to do something like this, to be given so much power over Marti... It's more than enough to get enough to get him off, especially when he hears him wheeze and say his name over and over again.

Only when he feels him stiffen, gasping as he comes, Niccolò lets it go.  
He kisses away the tears at the corner of his eyes, the newest purple marks on his freckled skin, and lies down beside him.


End file.
